Lucius Malfoy's very bad day
by GilraenTook
Summary: A friend of mine posted a video on her facebook of a man telling his father he had just had sex, his father telling him to come sit down, and said young man saying he couldn't because his butt hurt. I laughed, and thought it would be a great plot bunny for a silly little one shot. So, here it is, Lucius Malfoy's very bad day!


A friend of mine posted a video on her facebook of a man telling his father he had just had sex, his father telling him to come sit down, and said young man saying he couldn't because his butt hurt. I laughed, and thought it would be a great plot bunny for a silly little one shot. So, here it is, Lucius Malfoy's very bad day!

Some days, Lucius Malfoy wondered why he even tried. As he had grown up, he had known his place in the world. He was a pureblood wizard. A gift to the world. A rich man who had power. That power was attached to his name, it was attached to his Gringotts account, and, most importantly, it was attached to his blood.

He had dealt with the mudbloods he went to school with, then he had found his purpose in life, following the Dark Lord, and helping him rid the world of mudbloods and muggles. It was a glorious task, one that was sure to bring even more honour and power to the Malfoy name. . . but then the Potter family had to screw it all up. He had been set to marry Andromeda Black, but once she had started to associate herself more with the ridiculous headmaster of Hogwarts, including the assorted mudbloods and blood traitors who followed him, she had decided to marry a mudblood, claiming it was out of love. Bah, what a ridiculous notion that was! To marry for love instead of power. Not marrying someone because of hatred, that was perfectly fine, and if he had been betrothed next to his sister-in-law Bellatrix, may she rest in agony, he would have refused. Fortunately at that time, she was set to marry one of the Lestranges. Pathetic family, those, but for someone as blatantly insane as she was, it was a very fitting match. Instead he had gotten Narcissa. Sweet, pretty Narcissa who had born him a perfect son who had all of the Malfoy features, and promptly decided to spoil him rotten. Well, that came after. . . after the Potter family. Even thinking the name made his lip curl in disgust.

The perfect Potters, the blood traitor family who could do no wrong. He had been marked for years, revelling in his gory tasks, helping Narcissa set up Draco's nursery (well, mostly ordering the house elves to do so. It was what they were there for, after all!) and dreaming of the days to come when he and his son, the continuation of the strong, proud Malfoy name would be able to go on raids with him when he had found out that the Potter were expecting an unpure spawn of their own. Honestly, James was a decent wizard from a moderately well off family. Why he had to pull an Andromeda and marry a mudblood was beyond any ability to reason that Lucius possessed. Then, the unthinkable had happened. Severus, dear dear Severus, may he rest in peace, told their lord of a prophecy, and when their lord had acted upon it, trying to kill the Potter spawn before he could be harmed by him, he had been somehow vanquished by it instead! It had been a horrendous year, and Lucius himself had had to pretend that he was under the imperius curse and that he had not truly enjoyed the now former raids and murders he had participated in as a proud death eater.

He had done his best, though, Merlin help him, he truly had. He had withheld affection from his son, knowing it would make him strong. He had even scolded Narcissa a few times over her doting, and spoiling. It had gotten him hexed every time he tried, but he figured he could still train his boy well. He had him practice the cruciatus curse on the house elves for fun. He had told him the stories of the evil, bloodthirsty muggles and how they were out to try to destroy wizards, making it necessary for the statute of secrecy to exist, since the ministry was for some unfathomable reason against wiping them all out preemptively, or turning them into a second form of house elves. He had made sure to warn him that the mudbloods were all trying to destroy wizarding culture, and that the way the ministry was enabling it with their ridiculous edicts that anyone with wizarding talent must be schooled. He had only let his heir play with the children of his. . . business associates. . . so that he would not be exposed to something like the Weasley's blood traitor viewpoints. Merlin help them all of such things were contagious. Most of all, though, he would swiftly punish his prized heir if he even uttered anything resembling desire to not be a proper pureblood, and lavishly rewarded him any time he acted the way that he should.

Then the Potters happened. Again. He hoped, oh, how he hoped, that once that old fool that ran Hogwarts toted the little demon off that it would kill him. He had even heard rumours at times that the brat was being tormented by his muggle (hah! Muggle! That was what James Potter, may he rot in a pit next to Bellatrix! got for marrying a mudblood!) relations. It had started when Narcissa would not allow Draco to go off to Durmstrang for his education. Oh, how he had bargained, and pleaded, and bribed her to let him go off to a proper wizarding school, but his wife would not hear anything of it. The entire Black family, she had argued, had been trained at Hogwarts (though until his great-great-grandfather immigrated from France, running from a mob of mudbloods, muggles, and blood traitors, through no fault of his own-they DESERVED to be tortured, after all! the Malfoys had been trained at Beauxbatons.) and they had turned out fine. Lucius had laughed at that, and reminded her that one of her sisters was in jail for her role in the war, and was completely insane, the other married to a mudblood, one of her cousins in jail for betraying the Potters (though wasn't THAT a strange one, considering Sirius Black's moronic blood traitor ways in school, and his idol worship of Potter, not to mention the lack of his name even being mentioned in the inner circle) and the last dead somewhere, most likely, after having run away from his service to their lord, he had been slapped, and then hexed. It had taken him nearly a month to find the counter to the hex, and he had nearly broken down and gone to St. Mungo's before he found the book that she had hidden away with the hex she had used. Fortunately the hex (or should he call it a curse?) had not been anything visible, but he did not want that temporary loss to ever be replicated again.

And when Draco had come home for his first Christmas holiday? He had known right then that there was going to be a problem. He had tried again to convince Narcissa to transfer Draco to Durmstrang, arguing that their rigorous Dark Arts curriculum would be beneficial but she still had not relented, though every other word out of Draco's mouth was "Potter." Draco had ranted about Potter being on the quidditch team, about him being the teacher's pet for everyone except for Severus (and oh, Severus gained a few extra pricey gifts that year for his part, including a couple of the finest bottles of alcohol in Lucius' private collection) he had ranted about his failed attempt at befriending(!) the boy, and how Potter had then gone off and become friends with a mudblood and a Weasley, of all people. How could he not have been concerned?

But Narcissa. . . Narcissa thought it was cute, and refused to allow Lucius to take care of the problem. Even when Draco continued in that horrid school, and it had become painfully obvious that his obsession and his hatred were covers for a very large crush, Narcissa had refused to let him intervene. At least he had taught his son that no matter what his dalliances on the side may be, that he was going to marry a pureblood witch, and sire an heir. Narcissa, for some reason, had told him that she found it "cute," and to let Draco be. That it might help his character to be associated with someone whose morals were better than her husband's. It was only the fact that she had been twirling her wand in her hand while she said it that Lucius had not told her that she was out of her mind.

In the end of Draco's fourth year, to the beginning of his fifth, things had started to look up again. The Dark Lord had been miraculously revived with the help of that snivelling little Wormtail, and Umbridge, psychotic toad that the woman was, had been placed in the school. Draco had eve gotten to be the one to ruin Potter's little defence club. Bah. Not that Draco had done it for the right reasons, he had done it because Potter had not allowed any Slytherins to join, and he was jealous. Lucius could work with jealousy, though. At least he could have until he was thrown in jail for following orders. Merlin! What a horrid experience that had been! Then Draco had been granted the honour of having a mission for the Dark Lord, with the promise of being marked if he succeeded. Unfortunately, when he did not, he was not marked, and Lucius often found himself going back and forth between regret that his son did not have a scar on his arm where the mark had been, and relief that his son's skin was not marred with a scar where his proof of loyalty to his blood should have been. He had heard rumours, when Narcissa could sneak him in letters, that Draco now blamed Potter for him being in Azkaban, and that he now hated (oh, sure, she could call it "heartbreak" all she wanted. Lucius knew the truth!) the brat. Unfortunately she was also writing that Draco was floundering on his mission, and that he was too soft. Merlin help him, he had not done enough. . .

And then? When the war was finally over? He had become the irritated owner of a near life debt to Potter for speaking up on behalf of him, Narcissa, and Draco, and using his status as a "hero" to keep them out of Azkaban. Not only was it disgusting, but it had also brought Draco's crush back in full force. Instead of settling down with a nice witch (hell, ANY witch! He would even consider a half-blood at this point!) and having a child with her, Draco had studied the papers for any mention of Potter, alternating between rage, what Narcissa was still insisting on calling heartbreak, and overly faked indifference when he would see the brat out with the girl-Weasley on his arm. Oh, it was horrid the day that Potter and the girl-Weasley had broken up. Not that the world didn't need any more Potter-spawn running around, especially since their bloodline was now tainted, but Draco was flat out gleeful. He tried to make it seem as though he was gleeful at the hurt that Potter was likely feeling, especially since the papers showed her smacking him, then throwing a drink in his face after they broke up for. . . well, had he not known better, Lucius would have sworn that the bit of the photo as the girl-Weasley approached, screaming something that thankfully could not be heard in the photo was Potter staring at a wizard's arse. One that looked a lot like it had on the same clothing Draco had been wearing that day.

Since that morning, when Draco had skipped around the manor singing over Potter's misfortune, his son had been scarce. He had asked Narcissa if he was out still concentrating on trying to hold an actual job (the only problem Severus' influence had had was that he now wanted to be a potions master, and have a small apothecary. Where HAD he gone wrong raising him?) trying to rebuild the family name, or if he was seeing some bright young witch finally, but she always seemed to be vague, and say "a bit of this, a bit of that," whatever that was supposed to mean.

Lucius sighed and took another sip of his drink. At least the wards and hidden walls had ensured that the best bottles had not been broken or chugged like cheap muggle beer in the war and the Dark Lord and death eaters' endless stay at the manor, when Draco popped his head around the corner, looking like he had had the best day of his life.

"Dad, I just had sex!" his son, his delightful, perfect son exclaimed.

"Son! That's great! Come here and sit down!" was Lucius' response. This warranted a celebration, and an owl to the girl's parents with terms followed by one to the Prophet to announce the engagement.

"Can't, my ass hurts." Draco replied, his grin nearly doubling, threatening, Lucius thought macabrely, to split his son's face in half, the way his heart was splitting.

He heard a noise from the direction of Draco's room which sounded like a voice as he stared in shock and horror.

"Oh, must go. Potter is calling! Harry and I are going to announce our relationship to all of our old friends at lunch, this is going to be the best day ever!"

His son sighed, a lovesick breath that made Lucius want to figure out if he could cast the killing curse on himself. Draco's head popped back around the corner, and he heard slightly uneven footsteps retreating.

After a few breaths, and a chug from his bottle, Lucius bellowed his wife's name. She apparated into the room wearing a sundress that made her look like her wizarding fashion was starting to become a bit less important to her, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Apparently our son is having sex with Harry Sodding Potter." he moaned.

"Well, of course. They have been dating since nearly the end of the war, what did you expect?" Lucius' eyebrows shot up. "Oh, honestly, it's delightful that our baby has finally become involved with the man he has had a crush on practically since the first day that they met. If this is all you wished to moan about, I must leave. I have been invited to lunch with all of Draco and Harry's friends, and Harry is going to be proposing to our little dragon after! Oh, I simply cannot wait!" With that, she apparated out of the room, and, if the wards had not gone insane along with the rest of his family, she left the house, along with Draco and. . . how had Draco even gotten Potter through them without him noticing in the first place?

Lucius took another chug out of his bottle, sighed, and continued to stare at the fire, wondering where he had gone wrong, and what he had done to deserve this mess.


End file.
